The Exodus
by Bethuviel
Summary: When the shadow of Sauron returns to Greenwood the Great, Thranduil has to make the decision to move his realm.Told mostly through the pov of Legolas.Some angst, drama, and humor.Please read and review. Story temporarily on hold, lost all research, notes.
1. Chapter 1

The Exodus

by Bethuviel

_Disclaimer: The estate of J.R.R. Tolkien owns the rights to Middle Earth and all recognizable characters. I do not recieve compensation in any form for any work of fiction I have produced appearing anywhere on this site._

_Author's Note: As the age of Legolas is in doubt, I am taking a few liberties by using him as the viewpoint and central character of the story. And as there is not much detailed history written of this exodus, I do not feel as though I am "messing around with canon" and can take a few artist liberties to tell a story._

_And a big thank you to my Beta!_

A thousand years had passed since the Battle of the Last Alliance. It had been a thousand years to the day since Oropher's death, and that very morning King Thranduil decreed that the realm would move to the north east of the forest of Greenwood the Great and there be established. Over great murmurings, Thranduil had explained how the shadow of Sauron had returned and ever encroached upon the forest and the elves of Greenwood. Legolas sat pondering this on his bed. He remembered Oropher's last words to him on that fateful morning before leaving to go to the great battle.

"For the various races of Elves, Men or anyone else, the peace of this land shall not exist until the overthrow of Sauron. And I would have you, Greenleaf, know the joy of freedom and peace in your life. Because I love you, I go now to battle." Legolas could almost hear his grandfather's voice echoing through space and time to whisper those words again to him. A proud Oropher had led the Silvan warriors away and joined with the smaller army of Amdir of Lorien. Legolas' eyes misted over, for he felt an emptiness in a part of his heart, the part that had belonged to Oropher. And now, the realm was being removed to the north east of Greenwood. There, there were no memories of his grandfather: no paths that they had ridden together, no places they had hunted, no greens they had picnicked upon. There was nothing there to remind him of his grandfather.

He felt an immense pain stab at his insides and he doubled over, crossing his arms one above the other, clutching his abdomen. He felt as if he was losing his grandfather again. He felt no shame as the tears of his sorrow flowed freely down his cheeks.

There came a gentle knocking on his door and Legolas quickly wiped his eyes and face. He ran his hands over his hair and called out, "Enter."

The door opened to reveal his father and king, Thranduil. "Greenleaf, I thought I might find you here."

"Yes, Ada. I was just.."

His father cut him off. "You are upset. There is no need to hide your emotions from me, my son."

Legolas nodded.

"I know, my Greenleaf, I know. I have many memories here also. But those memories live in here," said Thranduil as he tapped his own chest over his heart. "In here, no one and nothing may take them from me. Do you understand?"

Legolas looked up at his father. He knew this already, he was no longer an elfling. Still he appreciated that his father was trying to comfort him. "Thank you, Ada. Your words comfort me. It was just that here, there are physical reminders of him, and things we did together. Where we are moving...I do not understand Ada. Why must we move? We have so much invested here."

Thranduil sighed. "Because the shadow has fallen upon Greenwood, and here we are vulnerable to the enemy. We must remove ourselves to a place of strength from which we can defend ourselves. Long have I had scouts searching for such a place, and indeed I have been and have inspected it with mine own eyes. Where we are going, it will be a stronghold of safety for our people should the need arise. And my son, I sense that we will indeed need such a place, for war comes again, and we must be ready. We will not flee and hide away in the west like so many others, but will stand and fight for what we love and hold dear. We are no cowards son. And never again shall our people die for lack of armor and weaponry. There, in our new home, we shall build our forges and smithies, and fill our armories to overflowing. Never again shall our people fall because of pride or folly."

Legolas absorbed his father's words. Another war. His father had talked little of his own experiences in the war that had claimed Oropher's life, saying one thing only; that when he looked south the horror of Mordor would revive again in his memory and that he knew that though the power of the dark one was seemingly broken, it would rise again. Those words had been permanently stamped into Legolas' memory. He often reflected upon them, in the quiet of the night, noting the scars left upon his father. Not physical scars, but emotional, and he wondered if his father would ever be free of them.

Those same scars had left his father mistrusting of others, and led to Legolas' own sheltered existance. This protectiveness had often led to heated discussions behind closed doors, for Legolas longed to visit his cousins in Lorien and to dip his feet into the Nimrodel, but his father always denied him the excursion. Legolas knew that it was those same scars and fears that prevented his father from allowing him the freedom he desired to explore Middle Earth. And now, they were moving from their home in Emyn Duir, farther away into isolation from all that he did know. In the end, he knew he had no choice but to accept the will of his father and king.


	2. Chapter 2

The Exodus

Chapter 2

by Bethuviel

_Disclaimer: The estate of J.R.R. Tolkien owns all rights to Middle Earth and all recognizable characters. I do not recieve compensation in any form for any work of fiction I have published anywhere on this site._

_Author's Note: As the age of Legolas is in doubt, I am using him as the primary point of view. And as there is little written of this exodus, I do not feel as though I am "messing around with canon" and may take a few artistic liberties to tell this story._

_My beta has went on vacation, so any mistakes are mine, and I ask for forgiveness._

Thranduil had seen the pain in his son's face. It had been as plain as the clouds in the sky over Greenwood. He could identify with that pain all too well, for he himself had lost much that was dear to him. He could still remember that fateful day with all clarity; nothing had faded with the passing of time.

Oropher had followed Gil-galad and Elendil into Mordor, for what they thought would be a final quick victory against the Dark Lord, Sauron. Thranduil remembered watching his father lead the Silvan Elves from Greenwood and Lorien in battle, under Gil-galad's command. He winced and turned away from Legolas to hide his face from his son. During the first assault on Mordor, in his righteous anger Oropher spurred ahead, was cut off from his soldiers and was surrounded by a sea of orcs. Thranduil had fought with bitter desperation, trying to reach his father. He had watched his Ada slowly become overwhelmed, until at last Oropher simply disappeared beneath a monstrous black mass. Summoning soldiers to himself, Thranduil had led a small charge of elves to retrieve his father's body, but only found the remains of his blood soaked cloak.

For seven years the war raged and the losses were grievous. Thranduil had returned home, weary, wiser, and with heavy shoulders as the fate of the kingdom now rested on him. And today was no different. Once again his shoulders were tired from the weight. He wanted nothing more than to reassure his son and protect his people. He cleared his mind of the horrific memories and turned to face his son and heir.

"Ada?" asked Legolas, worry thickening in his voice.

"I am alright, son. There are some things, some memories that are too painful to relive by speaking of them. I am not yet ready to do so." Thranduil took a deep breath and stood up straight again.

"I know, Ada. When you are ready, I will be here." Legolas felt his heart skip a beat, then thump hard. He had to swallow to alleviate the discomfort.

Thranduil nodded at his son, then said, "Ever have you been a source of delight to my heart, Greenleaf. And you carry the mantle of your birthright well. I am proud of you and I love you."

Legolas felt his eyes water, and he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over onto his face. He stood up and ran over to his father who waited with open arms. They embraced one another tightly.

"I miss him too," whispered Thranduil, "But he would want us to do what is right for our people first and foremost. In our new home, we will make new memories, and remember the old ones always. And yet there is hope, he may be restored to us one day in Valinor. If not, then at the end of all things when all creation will sing a new song to Iluvatar. We will see him again." Thranduil rubbed his son's back as he comforted him.

Legolas knew he was too mature to be laying his head upon his father's chest, but he did not care. He breathed his father's scent in deeply and forgot his worries. He trusted his father. "I love you too, Ada."

Thranduil patted Legolas on the back and stepped away, dabbing at his eyes with his fingers, "Come now son, we wouldn't want the maids to walk in a see us like this, it would ruin our stern reputations."

Legolas giggled at Thranduil's humor and replied, "No, we couldn't have that now could we? After all, we've worked too hard at making our royal masks, it would not do for anyone to know that we're not made of steel." Legolas wiped at his own eyes.

They both laughed heartily, momentarily letting go of their angst.

Thranduil turned to leave, paused and assumed his role as king and said, "Legolas, you are my second in command, and there will be many responsibilities I will leave in your care, including the treasury. I will meet with you after dinner to discuss these things, and would appreciate your honest opinions and thoughts. Until dinner." Thranduil left, closing the door behind him.

Legolas smiled. It had ever amazed him at how easily Thranduil slipped into his different identities, always becoming completely submerged into whichever one he happened to be wearing at the moment. He respected his father, and his king. Legolas wished his Ada no ill will, but he hoped that should the throne pass into his own care, that he would be at least half the leader that his father was.

Legolas sat on his bed. This was the first time he would be allowed to oversee the treasury. He knew almost nothing about the wealth of the kingdom, only that there were vaults. Of course he had heard the rumors of his father being stingy, but he had always thought that a good ruler was not a spendthrift, advertising the riches of the throne to any brigrand that cared to take notice. The greed of another being was an evil he cared not to fight or worse, have to pay a ransom to. Legolas cared not that the world thought the Greenwood Elves poor and stingy. He believed that their treasury was their own business, and like his father, would keep it that way. He was glad that he had earned the privilege of safekeeping the treasures of the kingdom, and that Thranduil had so high of an opinion of him. He laid back on his bed, and took note of the time by looking out of his balcony at the way the shadows lay from the light of the sun.

It was yet two hours before dinner. He supposed he would bathe and change his clothing into something more befitting of the king's presence and table. He rolled over, grabbed the cord that hung by his bed and pulled it to summon a maid to tend to his needs.

Thranduil hurried down the halls of his home to his private chambers. Once inside, he closed the heavy oak door and leaned agaisnt it. The move of the realm was harder for him than he let anyone know. He closed his eyes and once again stood outside the gates of Mordor. Tears ran down his face as he watched the orcs overwhelm Oropher. He choked and coughed as the memories flooded his mind, his grief as raw as the day it was created. He twisted his head back and forth as he tried to escape the sounds of his father's screams. Still, the agony and torture of them haunted him. He put the palms of his hands over his ears and pushed agaisnt them.

Thranduil cried aloud, "It should have been me, Ada!" Thranduil sunk to his hands and knees then whispered, "It should have been me..."

Sobs racked his body and he had not the strength to hold himself up. Thranduil fell the rest of the way to the floor, rolled over onto his side and curled up into a tight ball and wept. He did not feel like the mighty elven king of the north. Where was his comfort? Who would embrace him and offer him words of encouragement? Thranduil felt empty and alone.

When he felt the waves of his anguish recede like the tide from the pull of the moon, Thranduil rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. With one hand, he wiped the mucus from his nose and a new feeling wrapped itself about Thranduil, anger.

Thranduil felt the anger course through his body like blood in his veins. He was angry for the loss of his father. During the seven years of the war, he had searched in vain for the body of Oropher. There had been nothing, and he felt angry that he could not bury his father with the honors that had been deserved. He was angry that there was no one to whom he could turn to for advice, no one he could talk to and share his deepest fears with. He was angry for the loss of that last tie of close family, excluding his son. When he thought of Legolas, he briefly smiled.

The Valar could not have blessed him with a better son. He knew Legolas at times felt guilty that his mother had died giving birth to him. Thranduil had always reassured his son that he was in no way to blame for her death. Thranduil felt he had been doubly blessed with the love of a great elleth, and a beautiful strong son. He saw in his son the love of his wife. Together, that love coupled with his son's existance, gave him the strength and encouragement he needed to continue instead of fading. Thranduil held onto that. He steadied his breathing and sat up.

He thought of Legolas. His son had always strived hard to please him. And Thranduil was proud of him. He only wished that Legolas did not pester him to explore Arda and to go visiting his meddlesome cousins over in Lorien. Thraduil wanted to keep his son at home, safe from the evil horrors that now inhabited middle earth and had murdered his father. Thranduil sighed. He stood up and went over to his mirror and examined his appearance. He was a mess. His eyes were slightly swollen and his hair was a rat's nest.

He washed his hands and face, smoothed his robes and brushed his hair. "He is no longer an elfling, but an ellon in his own right. Almost two thousand years old, and I have to stop treating him like he is still only a hundred." Thranduil lectured his reflection.

There was a gentle knocking on his door. "Enter," he called.

A young maid opened the door and let him know that the evening meal was ready to be served at his pleasure.

"Thank you."

The maid exited quietly.

Thranduil looked at himself once more with a critical eye. "Aye, he is an ellon now, intelligent, handsome, a strong warrior, and crowned prince of my people. One day, he will be a good king. And tonight, he is one of my trusted advisors."

Thranduil opened the door to his room and stepped out. He took a deep breath and went to his own dinner table where he met his son.

_Author's Note: Reviews are greatly appreciated._


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